


Converge

by lady_wordsmith



Series: Memories (Bucky/Reader) [11]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Memory Loss, Moving the Plot Forward, Past Relationship(s), Planning Adventures, Reader-Insert, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-08
Updated: 2016-10-08
Packaged: 2018-08-20 05:49:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8238197
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lady_wordsmith/pseuds/lady_wordsmith
Summary: You discuss recent personal problems with a friend. Meanwhile, Bucky argues with Steve and Sam about planning, or the lack thereof.(Or: back to the main story, and setting up the plot to really get started.)





	

“I can’t believe this,” you say, your hand on your forehead as you relay what happened back to Kai.

“Hey, she gave you, like, two weeks’ notice, right? And offered to pay her half of the next month’s rent so you have more time to find a roommate. That’s pretty solid.” Kai tells you.

The two of you were having coffee before you headed back to the university, Kai to teach a class and you for a meeting with your dissertation committee chair. You were relaying the events of the previous night to him, where your roommate had told you she was moving in with her boyfriend at the end of the month.

“Not the _point_ , Kai. This means a new roommate. Not everyone who’s looking for a place here is willing to just pay their half of the rent and stay the fuck out of my way. Or have you forgotten Boston breeds all kinds of weirdos and freaks?” you say, taking a bite of your raspberry pastry.

“You know all about that, don’t you, Punch?” Kai asked, and you put your pastry down so you can swipe a hand in his direction.

Kai has called you “Punch” since the semester the two of you met, back when you were an undergrad and he was a grad student, working as a teaching assistant in one of your classes, a psychological research methodology class. Both you and Kai were attending an off-campus party hosted by one of the guys who belonged to a fraternity that your sorority was friendly with. Kai had belonged to the fraternity when he attended Boston University as an undergrad and was still close to some younger frat brothers, so it wasn’t a surprise to see him there at the party.

Kai had witnessed one of the guys at the party- thankfully not someone in the fraternity, just an asshole hanger-on- get too up close and personal with you. After trying and failing to warn the guy off, you had finally had enough and punched him hard in the jaw when the guy made the dumb mistake of grabbing your ass. The punch was the stuff of legend, apparently, and Kai began calling you Punch shortly afterward, as a bit of a joke.

You and Kai had been friends ever since. Kai had been one of the first people you called following your return from Europe. He had been angry with you, screaming at you for the better part of an hour because he thought you had been dead for the better part of a year. But after, when he was done and he had yelled himself out, he had cried and hugged you, something even your family members hadn’t done, and the two of you cried it out together before Kai gave you a gentle cuff to the head.

“Don’t do it again, Punch,” he had said, before giving you a smile.

And now here you were, two academics having coffee together.

“Weak, Punch, very weak.” Kai says with a laugh, swatting away your hand.

“I’m just saying. My luck, I get stuck with someone who actually thinks that because we share a common living space, we have to be _friends_ or some shit.” You tell him.

“Annie and I could move in with you.” Kai offered with a grin.

You make a face. “I think I’d rather take my chances with the wilds of Boston than hear you and Annie have sex.” You say, finishing your pastry.

Kai laughed. “Aw, c’mon, we’re trying for a kid these days and need the practice. You don’t want to be an honorary aunt? Auntie Punch?” he asks, and you swat him again.

“Ugh. I will pay you never to utter those words again.”

“What?”

“Auntie Punch. And the word ‘practice’ in reference to sex, while we’re at it.”

“You’re just jealous because you haven’t gotten laid ever.” Kai says, sticking his tongue out at you.

“We’re not getting into this debate again, Kai. It’s right there in the name.” you say, taking one last sip of your coffee and flipping him off.

“I’m just going with what Bill Clinton says.” Kai said as the two of you stood to depart from the coffeeshop.

“You’re an ass.” You mutter with a laugh.

The two of you leave the coffeeshop and say your goodbyes. Your meeting is still an hour or so away so you prefer to walk, while Kai needs to get to campus before you do and has to drive. Shoving your hands into your coat pockets, you begin to trudge to campus, your living situation on your mind.

There’s no way you can afford the apartment on your own. Sure, you could downsize, get something more affordable, but you don’t fancy living in a shoebox or taking chances in some of the more crime-filled areas of the city. There’s no bones about it, you need a new roommate.

At least your old one is paying next month’s rent. It gives you more time to find a new one, give a more complete vetting process. You don’t want a psycho living with you, or even someone you can’t stand. You don’t like your current roommate very much, but she’s tolerable, if only because one or both of you are gone most of the time. If you could at least aim for that, you were in good shape. You didn’t have to have to live with someone you actually liked, just someone you could tolerate who could pay the bills and rent on time without a million passive aggressive reminders from you.

You sigh, and tell yourself that when you get home to post an ad on Craigslist. You’ll have to take a few photos of the apartment, and figure out a way to make the place sound appealing. At least you have six weeks to find someone, you tell yourself. Six weeks before desperation sets in.

* * *

“Why are we waiting?” Bucky asks again.

Steve gives a sigh and fixes his best friend with a slightly annoyed stare. “We need to get things set,” he explains to Bucky, his tone making it clear he has explained this multiple times and is growing tired or doing so. “We can’t just go there without a plan.”

“I did. I was fine.” Bucky replies back, smirking. He knows that they’ve had this argument multiple times. He doesn’t care. It’s fun to wind Steve up.

There’s also the nagging voice in his head that says he has to find you _now_ , but the entertainment value of messing with Steve is just priceless.

“That’s why you had to leave, right?” and there’s Wilson, knocking him down a peg and taking away his fun. Between that and the way Sam needles him, trying to find out how Bucky survived in Boston, Bucky is amazed that he hasn’t tried to choke Sam yet. He chalks it up to the goodwill Sam had built in finding you when Bucky himself could not.

Bucky still hadn’t told Sam and Steve about where he had stayed in Boston. When Steve tried asking him how he had managed to survive his time in Boston, Bucky made noises about homeless shelters and sleeping in bus stations and panhandling. He wasn’t sure Steve bought it. Sam _definitely_ didn’t buy it. But Bucky didn’t care. He did _not_ want anyone trying to find Will, even people he considered allies. The old man deserved to be left in peace, and Bucky was determined to keep it that way. He knew being able to find shelter had been an incredible stroke of luck, and he was lucky Will hadn’t been more cognizant, and obscenely lucky Will had given him money on the few occasions he’d asked, and his gratitude toward the old man extended to making sure no one would find him and try to extract information, even if Will’s information was useless.

He knew he could probably stay in Will’s building again, if he had to. But he declined to volunteer that information, so Steve and Sam were busy trying to find accommodations for all of them since Bucky had managed to successfully argue that since he was still wanted, still at large, he needed separate lodgings from the other two men. If ordinary people saw him in the company of Steve and Sam, they might put the pieces together, and Bucky’s quest to find you would be over before it had even begun.

Of course, Bucky had ulterior motives. He didn’t care much for the shadowy group that Steve and Sam insisted on chasing down. The way he saw it, it probably had very little to do with you. He couldn’t remember the topic ever coming up on the run, even with the limited memories he had. So as far as he was concerned, it wasn’t a part of what he needed to worry about. He just needed to find you.

“Go to hell, Wilson.” Bucky told Sam, but there was no edge of malice or irritation in his voice. He knew Sam meant well, that he was a good man, if Steve trusted him. Sam and Bucky simply had a dynamic of biting at each other, getting on each other’s nerves. It made things interesting.

“Look, Buck…” Steve interrupted as Sam went to deliver another stinging remark. “We need to find a place for you to stay, right?” Bucky went to argue, but Steve held up his hands. “A place that _isn’t_ a homeless shelter or a bus station.”

“A motel room, then?” Bucky offered with a slight smile, trying to make light of the situation.

“No.”

“I’ll manage, Steve. I can get by on my own.”

Steve just frowned in response, which made Bucky look away. He knew his best friend was concerned, that he wanted Bucky to be somewhere safe, where he didn’t run the risk of the scum of the earth getting to him. Bucky knew he could mention Will, set Steve at ease, but Bucky always lived under the idea he was being watched, and so was Steve. Telling Steve meant putting Will on any number of people’s radars, and the guy was just an addled old man living his days out in his small apartment, harmless. He deserved to be left alone.

“So find an apartment,” Sam told them. “Look, Steve, I managed to contact Deron, and he agreed to house me and you for while. Maybe I could ask him if he knows if anyone’s looking for a roommate.”

Steve looks thoughtful for a minute, and then he nods. “That sounds like a good idea.” He says, looking over to Bucky for approval.

“I have no money.” Bucky argues.

“I’ll pay.” Steve offers back.

“I hate strangers.”

“We’ll meet them first.”

“That means putting them in danger.”

Steve looks annoyed with Bucky, and Bucky can’t say he blames him. Bucky isn’t volunteering any information that would set Steve’s mind at ease, and refusing an easy solution to the problem. But Bucky doesn’t want to get any more involved with that stupid group than necessary. He knows that it will interfere with finding you.

“I’ll find a place on my own. You don’t know who this guy will talk to.” Bucky says, and out of the corner of his eye he sees Sam looking thoughtful.

“You know, he has a point.” Sam says, more to Steve than Bucky. “It’s best not to tip our hand and get too involved. Maybe finding somewhere, independently, may be best.” Sam sighs. “I’ll pull up Craigslist later, start looking at listings. Any preferences?”

The last question is directed at Bucky, who shrugs. Then he thinks, and realizes something. You had joked about needing a graduate degree to get anywhere in your field. You might still be in school.

“Find me something near the colleges and universities.” Bucky tells Sam. “She might still be in school.”

Sam nods. It’s clear he thinks it’s a good idea. Bucky wonders if he followed the same thought process.

Steve seems to see the logic in it. “That makes sense.” He tells Bucky.

“Of course it does.” Bucky says, flashing a smile. “I thought of it.”

“Just like you thought about going to Boston without a plan?” Steve returns, and Bucky manages to laugh in spite of himself.

“You two are never letting me forget that.” He says, muttering with a good-natured smile.

“Stop trying to do it, then.” Steve says, returning the grin.

Bucky shakes his head and, after bidding the two other men good night retreats to his room, immediately heading for the bookshelf. When he had arrived, the bookshelf was mostly empty, save for a few token books. In the month he had been staying with Steve, Bucky had found a few bookstores in close proximity and now the shelves were easily half-full. Trailing a finger along the spines of the books, Bucky swears he can hear your voice, the way you read to him at night.

_“’I look at the women on the streets of Saigon, and upcountry. Some of them are very beautiful-‘”_

_“’The reply is simple. I have tried. But with the others I have not been successful-‘”_

_“’I ran to the woods and rivers of northern Minnesota. It was, I suppose, a kind of self-fostering-‘”_

_“’Everything about him was old except his eyes and they were the same color as the sea and were cheerful and undefeated.’”_

He sighs, and turns away from the books, not sure what he feels, if he feels anything at all.

**Author's Note:**

> -The wiseass comment Kai makes ("I’m just going with what Bill Clinton says."), for readers who aren't American, is referring to oral sex, which, if you read the previous parts, ia referring to the fact that the Reader Character has not had penetrative sex with anyone but has at least received oral sex from Bucky.
> 
> -The book excerpts at the end are from, in order: _The Lover_ by Marguerite Duras, _The Little Prince_ by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, _Father Water, Mother Woods_ by Gary Paulsen, and _The Old Man and the Sea_ by Ernest Hemingway.


End file.
